What's in a Name?
by timelucked
Summary: Would no one know the real me - all of me? Or would I become just as faceless as the earthen formations I build around myself. Still the question remained. Did anyone know my name? Of course it was him. Who else would it be?


The Blind Bandit. The Runaway. But did anyone know my name?

Champ. Scout. Rocky. And still, no one knew.

Would I forever be two halves of a whole? Would I always war with who I am and who I'm to become? Was I the same person, only split by definition like a mangopeach and a blade? Would no one know the real me – all of me? Or would I become just as faceless as the earthen formations I build around myself.

Maybe it was all the walls I put up – both the physical and figurative – that kept others from seeing me. The rocky caves I hid my heart away in even locked me out now. I honestly don't know who I am anymore. Stray wanderer or helpless, vulnerable baby? Neither, or something more?

But still that question remained. Did anyone know my name?

"Hey!"

I snorted softly. Of course it was him. That cheery voice that grated my every nerve (the same that I never lulled to sleep with as he talked deep into the night about his family and past hurts to the others) I could see him – _feel_ him – move his suddenly too-large-for-his-body feet around before, clopping over in as lousy and clumsy a gait as Flopsie. The vibrations carried off his flamboyant and bright disposition in waves, darting his hand in front of my face. I could just _see_ his grin – and yes I could. As clearly as I saw his feet move. Each tick and each whirl – though never one of his graceful glides that I was only ever informed of by ear, never by sight – and each move of his body, I saw.

And that one day, when Katara made him sit in the rain to "soak in the true mastery of water bending" and I joined, I could see the outline of his upturned and perky-as-ever face as each droplet splashed his face. His head pulled back with peals of laughter like the chiming of tinkering bells. Definitely not the gong-esque sounds emitted from grown men. It was a small comfort to know he was young. Maybe even as young as I was. Not that I cared or anything.

"Come on," he said with a sort of happy exasperation, as if he had been waiting months to do something and I was holding him back for silly reasons. He bent down and gripped my hand in a surprisingly solid vice. As if I would crumble without him. Hah. It's like he didn't even know me at all. "Time to train, _Sifu_!" he teased with the title, hauling me to my feet and dragging me off someplace.

_Ah. Sifu. _Another_ name of mine._

"'ey, lay off, Twinkletoes. I never asked for your help!" I jerked from his grip, circling my wrist (but honestly just feeling the spot where his baby-soft skin had touched my coarser flesh.)

I sensed him shrug sloppily, turning to pad off in the direction of the small indenture – my own made canyon, just for the two of us to share. For training purposes, of course.

_But I wonder…_

"Hey, Aang," I waited for him to look at me directly, giving me his undivided attention – if only for that time alone. "Do you know my name?"

I could feel the weirded out, yet politely curious, look he shot me; as if it were my own face contorting. As if I had traced the pads of my rough fingertips over the lines and creases of his own face just so that I could see, envision, him in my mind. Imprint the memory into my muscle and sinew and brain and mind.

"Uh…yeah?" he called back to me in response. "Why – did you change it or something?"

"Say it."

"Whu?" Now the shift in his posture – the at-a-loss, clueless stance he usually wore – looked plain stupid.

"Say my name, if you know it _so_ well." I couldn't let him slip away without a single taunt. That would just be too uncharacteristic of me, and I changed for no one. I was a mountain in the wake of a storm. The gusting winds could try all they wanted to, they would never break me. They would never bend a mountain.

"What are you-?"

"If you don't say," he shrunk back at the sound of variously grated soils as I hefted a hunk of the ground out of itself, levitating most intimidatingly by my fist. "I'll pummel you until there's only sediment left behi—"

"Okay, okay – geez! It's Toph!" he calmed and restated coolly, seeming to sense it was somehow important. "It's Toph."

I let the earth fall back with a boom, shaking and rumbling the area until I could see even the tiniest pebble clamber across the cracked land, falling into a small crevice that the earth allowed itself. Toph could feel that this land had not seen water in many, many days. The earth's thirst yearned to be quenched. Maybe later she could ask Katara to help her with it. Hah. As if.

Along with the stone, I could even see the teensiest hint of a smile peek out from him.

I used to ask, what's in a name? I had so many, they all lost significance. Importance. Meaning. But hearing the right person, at the right time, say it – I knew a name meant everything.

"Darn straight, 'toes. And this Toph Bei Fong is going to kick your butt at earth bending. Unless you think you can prove me wrong?"

Leaping high into the air, feet pedaling as he was propelled by his natural element, he landed on the ground and pumped his fists forward, back bowed almost worshipingly – though to Toph or to the element, she would never know. Rocks and clumped dirt flew from before his planted feet, toes curled into the ground to stabilize himself as sturdy as the mass he threw. I knocked those _pebbles_ aside and showed him how a _real_ master did things.

The scrap lasted exactly thirty-two minutes. The sun drained from the sky and I knew the moon was rising in its stead (Katara stirred and twirled like a gentle breeze as she danced with her element, my only true indication the moon had shaken off its slumber) We collapsed on top of each other, breathless and panting. And I had never laughed so much in my life.

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><p><strong>AN: Haha, the line "Unless you think you can prove…" had originally said 'probe' So suffice it to say, I'm glade I double-checked this story. I would really hate to turn a K+ into an M rating because of an unfortunate typo. Yikes. **

**I don't know where this idea came to me, but it did. So here it is.**

**Haha, I love that I wrote a Taang during Zutara week. I know, I know, my Zutarian fellows, I know. I should be solely focused on Zutara week. Sorry? But I go at my own pace. **


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